


Out of the Frying Pan, Into the Fire

by KirkyPet



Series: How Furiosa Lost her Arm and Narrowly Avoided Becoming a Wife [5]
Category: Mad Max Series (Movies), Mad Max: Fury Road
Genre: Gen, Kidnapping, Pre-Mad Max: Fury Road, Road Trip, a desperate plan, chickenpox party, explosives are a bad idea, gets messy, quest for redemption
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-19
Updated: 2016-11-19
Packaged: 2018-08-31 22:22:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8596063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KirkyPet/pseuds/KirkyPet
Summary: Where it all goes pear-shaped.





	

Furiosa was tense with excitement as the convoy tore along the sandy terrain. Despite what she'd told Zephyr during the 'campfire incident' some years back, this was the first time she'd been allowed to tag along with the Mothers on an excursion. It had gone smoothly so far, like a first road trip should, apart from the rock fall that had forced them to take a slight diversion off their usual route.

It was just a shame Val wasn't along for the ride as well. 

***** 

The Green Place was having a chickenpox party. It had been just over two months since the men's clan headed north, and some traders had passed through since then. A couple of weeks later, Val and some others had come down with a rash which prompted rapid action by the Mothers. Children who hadn't had the infection were herded into a comfortable tent along with the itchy sufferers, partly to distract them from scratching, and to make sure they'd get the irritating illness out of the way while they were young. Adults who'd had it before were on duty to take care of them all and keep them entertained in their quarantine.  

The remainder of the clan, those for whom the infection would be dangerous, decided to clear out of the settlement altogether for a few weeks until all of the infected party had scabbed over. So, a miscellanous gathering of women camped up in the orchards on the southern fringes of the Green Place for a few days. Some were in the first few months of pregnancy (including Furiosa's mother), others were newcomers to the settlement who hadn't had chickenpox. One or two of the frailer elderly Mothers had been persuaded to come along too. The group would need some wiser heads in attendance. No-one would have suggested that they were too old to risk infection, not without risking a cuff round the ear.  

So why had Furiosa begged to come along too? For one thing, she had been to a chickenpox party in the past and she knew that, despite the name, it wasn't that much fun. Half the room would be sick and cranky, and the other half running around hyped up in a small space. But what persuaded her mother was the fact that Furiosa been laid up with a leg injury for several weeks and desperate to get out and about again. 

***** 

Furiosa felt like she was properly grown up. Talking, dancing and roaming through the fruit trees with the women, rather than being left behind with the little kids at home. She felt a pang when she thought of Val, wished she was with them. But then, Val was that bit younger than her, so maybe she wouldn't feel too badly about being left behind.  

But after sixteen days, they got a bit restless. No-one was showing any symptoms, thankfully, so there was no need to go back for medical treatment. But it was a bit too early to be heading back to the settlement. Besides, it was nice to have a change of scenery and they were all having a good time. Donna and some of the other pregnant women put their heads together and concocted a plan for a road trip to the south-east. They reasoned they probably wouldn't get another chance for a year or more, what with bump and baby. Besides, there were herders out that way who would probably have skins and herbs to trade. They had enough supplies and it would be useful, they all agreed. Even the elders were keen to hit the road again. So a flare was sent up to signal to home -  _moving on, back in_ _ten days_. 

***** 

Shambo sat on the rocky outcrop, staring moodily at the horizon. He could hear Gipe and the other two below at ground level, messing with wires. Steek and Spide were probably off somewhere practicing handbrake turns in the Shaggin Wagon. And Sharkey was nowhere to be seen, as per. They were planning to test out some landmines later, but Shambo was happy to leave them to get on with it. Well, not _happy_ , but he'd rather to get a bit of peace to think.

A trail of dust caught his eye. There was very little traffic near the Island. That was why they'd been sent there after all, _to be out of the way_ , he thought gloomily. Was it coming their way? He watched it some more. Yep, definitely incoming. He scrambled down the rocky slope to where the three of them were absorbed in attaching some fuses to a crack in the rock with putty.

"Have you got the scope?" Shambo called out. Champ nodded to a pile of tools, "Right there, big man."

Shambo scooped it up and scanned in the direction of the dust trail. He'd have a better view from up high but...no, there it was. A convoy of bikes, about nine of them. Not carrying much kit, so not traders. Looked like one person per bike. Shambo wondered if it would be worth intercepting them. Probably didn't have much worth raiding, apart from the bikes. As they advanced closer, he could see that each of the riders carried a rifle. Hmm, maybe should just let them pass. They didn't look worth taking on. On the other hand, they could arm the landmines they'd set earlier and just wait and see if they managed to blow themselves up. Shambo thought about it, but he'd never been keen on killing passers-by just for the hell of it. After all, they might come back with something worth raiding next time.

"Hang on a minute...", Shambo murmured.  
"Wa ish it?", Cricket asked, with a mouthful of wires. He spat them out. "We got incoming?".  
Shambo span round. "Champ! Remember what you said after that last delivery run? Immortan's running low on breeders?"  
"Yup, word is he's just got the one right now." Champ replied. "What's your point, man?"  
"This is how we're going to get back to the Citadel! Bring back some breeders!"  
"Speak for yourself, Sham. I'm alright here, ta very much." Gipe chipped in.  
"Hang on, are you saying there's a bunch of breeders on bikes heading our way?" Champ sounded sceptical. "Sure you've not been on the Imperator's brew?"  
"Gie's a jook" Cricket grabbed the scope. "You got the beer goggles on, Sham? I just see old biddies here. No, hang on. Aye, maybe...and there's two on the one bike here. Nice from far, not far from nice", he winked.  
"Aye, like you'd know" Champ hit him a thump. "Right, how're we goanny do this?"

***** 

"You sure of the road, Suze?"  
"Yeah, think so. Not been this way before, but should be alright if we skirt round that big crag over there."  
"Alright, keep an eye out for company!"

*****

"Alright, lets start with the getaway. Where'd you leave the Rover? Away and get it ready"  
"We'll not be able to carry more'n a couple of them in the back of the Rover." Champ protested. "What about the Wagon? It could hold another one. Is it handy?"

Cricket climbed to the top of the crag, scope between his teeth. He scanned the area. At least the Wagon was easy to spot. "I see them, off to the left there. Kicking up a fair bit of dust."  
Shambo tutted. "Dickheads. Hope the breeders don't see them first. Get down there, Champ, and give them the heads up. We'll need both rides for this."

He turned to Gipe. "Right. So. The tricky part. How're we goanny get a hold of two or three of the shiny ones without getting perforated? They've all got rifles."  
"Auld biddies can't shoot?" Gipe offered.  
"I'd rather not risk it, if it's all the same to you" returned Shambo. "We might need to create a diversion. Something to separate them we can grab one or two, then scoot before the dust settles."  
"Got just the thing here" Gipe grinned.

"Alright, cavalry's here. What we doin'?", a voice spoke over Shambo's shoulder, making him jump. The Chuckle Brothers had shambled up. "I hear you're on the pull, Sham? After the bitches, eh?"

*****

" _That – did – not – go – well_...", muttered Shambo through gritted teeth. He drove the Wild Rover full throttle along the sandy track. The windscreen was in tatters where he'd knocked it out with his free hand, while trying to keep control of the vehicle. He'd had to. He could have used it as a sieve. Gipe was always an optimist. _Auld biddies could_ _most definitely shoot_. 

His ears were ringing. Sounds seemed far away.  

Okay, time for a status check. He was bleeding from his right ear, but everything else seemed to be more or less intact. His left shoulder hurt in a way that he felt he'd notice more later.   
He had a memory of Steek dropping with a round bullethole in his forehead. That had come out of nowhere. Gipe taking cover. And then the world went white. 

"Alright back there?", he yelled. He hoped someone would answer.   
"Think so..." Champ replied. "She's still out cold. I've got her tied up. Should be alright."   
"Damaged?"   
"Not...really. Just knocked out. The other one got the worst of it." 

Silence. 

"Shambo?" There was something in Champ's voice that had Shambo's stomach sinking.  
"What?"   
"Immortan's breeders got to be pretty shiny, right?"  
"Why...?"  
"Well...she's missing an arm. Not recently. And she's a wee bit younger than we thought." 

Shambo sighed from the depth of his very being. This had not gone well.

**Author's Note:**

> This ended up being a 'Lock Stock and Two Smoking Barrels' type of heist-gone-wrong. I keep putting off the angst. Can't put it off any longer though...


End file.
